A Fairytale Fiasco
by LittleNacho
Summary: Oh but I should've listened to them, and you should listen to me now, whoever is reading this. Fairy tales are real. Fairy godmothers are real. Don't ever say that they're not real, because fairy godmothers have magic… and the ability to change everything.
1. Prologue

What do you think when someone reads you a fairy tale? Well it really depends on your age doesn't it. When you're at the tender age of, let's say, less than ten years old, you think fairy tales are marvellous, the most amazing thing you've ever seen. Oh my! How in the world did her hair become so long and capable enough to maintain a fully grown man's strength? My goodness! How does one kiss have the ability to wake up a person from eternal slumber or a toxic ingestion? No way! Can animals really talk, build houses or have the respiratory strength to blow those houses down? It sounds pretty stupid from an adult's point of view, however from a child's it's the most mind blowing thing you've ever heard, and your imagination vastly increases to thinking that the world is a really awesome place. I, like most adults (considering above at least age fourteen) _used _to think that fairy tales are a load of mumbo-jumbo, jibber jabber and hocus pocus. But what I've been trying to say here is to not think like that. You better believe in fairy tales…

…Otherwise your fairy godmother will make your life a living hell.

It all started last year, when I was sitting with my friends Kieran, Amy, Sandra, Josephine, Marie and Lois. The seven of us always sit in a small circle on the oval at lunch (we called it the 'dirt square'). And we were talking about our favourite fairy tales when we were younger. I kind of zoned out when Sandra started blabbing on and on about how she wished her prince charming would look like. I didn't realise that when I was in my land of Zone, they voted that the best ever fairy tale of all time was Snow White. When I finally came back to Earth, they asked me whether I liked Snow White.

"I honestly don't believe in fairy tales," I commented.

All of them gasped instantly.

"Don't say that!" Lois whispered, "Your fairy godmother will hear!"

"What makes you think I believe in fairy godmothers if I don't believe in fairy tales?"

Another instant gasp.

"SHHHH!" Kieran shushed, "You are going to regret this!"

"How?"

"Once, my fourth cousin said something like that, and my family has never heard from him since," Amy explained.

The lunch bell rung around the school, signalling that our lunch has ended.

"I still don't believe in fairy tales and godmothers."

My friends looked at me with concern and I swore I saw Marie make a quick sign of the cross.

Oh but I should've listened to them, and you should listen to me now, whoever is reading this. Fairy tales are real. Fairy godmothers are real. Don't ever say that they're not real, because fairy godmothers have magic… and the ability to change everything.


	2. In the deep end with an old 'friend'

Anyway, after lunch and the last two lessons of class, I slowly started walking home.

"Alice!"

I heard Matthew call my name in the distance. I had to walk faster. But after all the years, why would he suddenly decide to pester me again?

Since grade one, my friends and I made an oath to avoid Matthew Medici, (coming from six year olds) he was an icky poo, who picked his nose, smelt funny and wore overly large glasses. To top it all off, in grade six he acquired a new way of annoying people: boasting to everyone that he's the first guy to hit puberty because he has pimples. Two weeks later he also acquired braces. But that wasn't the worst part. At the grade seven graduation onto high school, he declared his love for me in front of _everyone_, leading me to total embarrassment. He hasn't talked to me since then, for he embarrassed himself greatly there too and also because Josephine told him to '(insert rude word here) off'. That was when I was 14, I'm almost 18 now.

I really didn't feel like talking to him. So I take a turn into the swimming centre in the school where there is a short cut to the gym, then outside is the road. As I started to race past the pool, the loop in my shoelace snags on one of the chair legs. My shoe detaches from my foot and when I tried to get up, my bare foot slips on the tiles of the edge of the pool, I manage to hit my head somewhere and I slide into the pool. The deep end.

...

I slightly open my eyes. _I'm totally dreaming. _There is a really cute guy with lovely tan skin and gorgeous light brown hair on top of me, with his eyes closed and deeply kissing me. It feels so strange though, the kiss is too deep. I'm about to scream but I can't because there is this enormous pressure in my lungs. I shove the cutie-pie-smoocher off of me and sit up again trying to scream… but instead I belched up a heap of the gross swimming pool water, and my breakfast and lunch.

"Nice one Renld," My supposed saviour says all out of breath from reviving me. However I dislike him from calling me by my last name. I hate my last name it's too weird and nobody calls me by my last name either. Except one person…

… I dart a look at the person who saved me. I stared at his muscular body; I stared at his pretty face. His eyes stared back at me. The last time I saw those endearing green eyes, they were surrounded by pimples and in pain for being told to go away rudely. The beautiful guy who saved me is Matthew Medici.


	3. My shoes are misssing?

The school nurse annoyingly stuffed a heap of paper towels at my face trying to 'mop up the rest of the chuck-up dearie' while our Groundskeeper, Mr Welch (or Mr Weirdo) slopped out his sticky mop and started cleaning up my mess. Go me.

After the nurse finished cleaning me up as best as she could, she started attending to Matthew. I was planning to slip away so I could avoid the awkward conversation that I know would occur after. I took a quiet step back, but then I realised that I had no shoes on (for some reason) and cursed for I stepped on one of the water drains with all its pokey screws and metal parts.

"Alice are you okay?" Matthew says while interrupting the nurse. Since when did he care about me?

"Thank you Matthew I'm fine… I just don't know where my shoes are!"

"Oh your shoes!" the nurse exclaimed randomly, "One is caught in the pool filter, Mr Welch will fish it out (Mr Welch: "That'd be right…") and the other shoe… I simply don't know where that went."

The nurse then orders the Groundskeeper to retrieve my shoe, and just as I was about to make a dash for it, Matthew latches onto my arm.

"So you're not going to thank me? Huh, typical." Matthew says in a hushed tone with a smile that can make anyone drop dead.

I stand there dazed by the moment, and observe the unbelievable transformation which has happened to Matthew.

"Why do you care about me all of a sudden… May I add, once again?" the words leak out of my mouth distortedly because I was staring at his lips and remembering the sweet taste of them.

"I'm unsure," he says while loosening his grip on my arm, "Something just overcame me when I was watching you with your friends the other day, you were discussing fairy tales or something… then BAM!" His squeezes my arm again like he never wants to let go. "I felt like I needed to talk to you again and that I think I'm still not over you."

If you could see me right now, I literally was melting like an ice block for being so love struck by his words, kind of like how a girl comes across a poster of One Direction and stares at it for half a day.

But always, in TV shows, movies, and books… you know it's too good to be true. There's going to be some gist along the line, nothing's ever this perfect- it's so clichéd don't you think? _A guy known as a nerd follows the girl, the girl drowns from the pressure of the pursuit, he saves her life and she realises that he's not that bad looking anymore, and they fall in love. _It sounded so much like….like… like a fairy tale. And I knew so much better than that- that fairy tales were not real. I knew it couldn't be like this between us, I was convinced that something bad was going to happen.

I didn't realise that from that thinking session about the whole situation, after Matthew said those somewhat romantic words, his lips were like a centimetre from mine and about to engulf me in a kiss (except a real one that time). My eyes widened and I pushed him away from me, this will not happen.

"I'm sorry you're still too icky poo-ish for me," I snapped. Such a lame excuse.

His heartbroken expression crushed me, but this was the way it had to be.

I ran away barefooted, wee, wee, wee, all the way home.


	4. Harps, Mums, Little girls and More Men

Hot summer's day + concrete foot path + bare feet = hell… or sore feet with lots of swear words. I pound my way inside my house and my feet scream _thaaaaaankyooooou!_ When I step onto the cool tiles. I'm still dripping wet from the pool accident (*sob*) but I am dead thirsty after all the running. I walk into the kitchen to meet up with my old friend Mr. Fridge, but someone is already talking to him. And taking his belongings. Who is not my mum.

"Excuse me whoever you are, Mr. Fridge is my friend go away." I commanded. Yes I am a very rude person.

The man who was burying his head into the luxurious chest of Mr. Fridge faced me with his arms full of food.

"You must be Alice!" he cooed, "I'm a friend of your mums."

I stole a quick look at him: he was dashing, with his dark hair and had a perfect amount of facial hair around his lovely lips which sit under his nicely shaped nose. I would've had a crush on him if he wasn't wearing my mum's dressing gown.

"Alice!" my mum calls, "Your home… oh you met Dmitry!" She comes up behind him and wraps her arms around him too.

So this is what this week's victim is called. Dmitry. Poor, poor Dmitry. He'll be replaced after a week. Two if he's lucky. This has been going on for all of my life, mum and her men. I usually end up having a crush on half the guys mum dates; mum is only fifteen years older than me. My Dad died before mum gave birth, his name was… was… was Jackson or Jack- something like that. My grandmother was a demanding person and she always got my father to 'collect' wondrous items for her, even from people who were very dangerous. My Dad was only sixteen and my mum only fifteen, when my grandmother asked my Dad to collect her old harp from Mr. McIntyre who lived on the grand tree house in the woods. My mum begged him not to go, because everyone knew Mr. McIntyre was a really big guy who could squash you with his foot, but my Dad still went. My Dad managed to retrieve the harp with Mr. McIntyre after him and when he was climbing down he told my mum to axe down the tree so he could reach the ground faster. My parents really should've listened in physics class though. If you cut the tree down, it'll fall, and kill you. Which is what happened to my Dad. The next day my mum found out she was pregnant. Since then, my mum has been dating multiple guys every week but none of them have been perfect for her. My mum never laughs. She loves, smiles, cries, but never laughs.

Dmitry isn't the one for her… while I was standing here reminiscing my Dad's story, Dmitry was still piling up on the food. He's either going to turn out really chubby from Mr. Fridge, ruining his perfect figure or will end up breaking my mum's heart (like so many of the other guys) because he's collecting the food for his own fridge and becoming something like a gold digger.

I walk away in a huff, upstairs to my room and open my door. Somebody has ruined my meeting with Mr. Fridge, and somebody has also ruined my meeting with Mr. Bed… I scream.  
There's this little girl in a fairy costume sitting on my bed.


End file.
